The Eleven Dancing Gryffindors
by Sarajane of the Twinkling Eyes
Summary: When eleven Gryffindors, under an evil spell, mysteriously wear holes in their shoes every night, Professor Dumbledore grows desperate to discover the cause. Even if it means using his best spy to solve the puzzle… SS/HG.


THE ELEVEN DANCING GRYFFINDORS.  
  
Based on the story of 'The Twelve Dancing Princesses."  
  
Summary: When eleven Gryffindors, under an evil spell, mysteriously wear holes in their shoes every night, Professor Dumbledore grows desperate to discover the cause. Even if it means using his best spy to solve the puzzle. SS/HG.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, nor much of the plot.  
  
A/N: I desperately tried to make it sound like a fairy-tale. So yes, the simplicity of it was intentional. As was the fact that many characters are, well, out-of-character.  
  
Once upon a time, at the edge of a humble village, there stood a spectacular, yet mysterious castle named Hogwarts. It was here that many children learned the ways of wizards and witches, casting spells, flying brooms and brewing potions. Down in the cold, dark dungeons there lived a somewhat cranky and rather disagreeable Potions Master. Severus Snape had long greasy black hair, and haunting jet black eyes, which he used to terrify his students. Although he was a skilled potions brewer, Severus was dissatisfied with his life. He often found himself thinking of doing noble deeds that might win him the love of a fair maiden. Of course, he immediately dismissed these thoughts as "UnSnape-like" and tried as hard as he could to push them from him mind. But it came down to one thing - Severus Snape was lonely, and longed for the love of another.  
  
Because of his crankiness, many of the other Professors and especially his students hated him, and jokingly called him a "slimy git" who needed to wash his hair. There laughter made him want to prove himself to them, and only increased his want for a new life.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, Sir?" Dobby, a small house-elf, crept towards the Headmaster of Hogwarts who was absently wandering the castles halls.  
  
"Ah, Dobby, what can I do for you? I see you've been knitting your own socks - they are quite remarkable," said the white-bearded man, his blue eyes twinkling.  
  
Dobby smiled gratefully, then remembered what it was he wanted the Headmaster for. "Dobby is wanting to tell the Headmaster of a problem," he squeaked.  
  
"Oh?" Professor Dumbledore replied. "And what is this problem? It's not Peeves again is it?" Dobby winced. "No, it is far worse. The house-elves have run out of pins and knitting needles to repair all of the holed shoes the Gryffindors is using."  
  
The Headmaster frowned. "Hm, how long have you been repairing their shoes?"  
  
"Weeks, sir! Dobby has had to bandage his finger from the amount of pin pricks. Every morning Dobby is greeted by a near dozen pair of shoes."  
  
"Every morning? Who are the Gryffindors involved?"  
  
Dooby fished out a piece of parchment from his sock and handed it to the Headmaster. It was a list of the shoe owners with little ticks next to each one saying whether the shoe was fixed. It read, 'Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottem, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Seamus Finnagin, Dean Thomas, Dennis Creevey and Colin Creevey.' This had baffled Professor Dumbledore to say the least. What could his Gryffindors be up to? This was something to be taken up with the Head of Gryffindor House, Professor McGonagall.  
  
Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk in the Transfiguration classroom, with her fingers tightly gripping the arm rests of her chair. She was glaring at the white-bearded man with half-moon spectacles in front of her.  
  
"I haven't the faintest idea what you are on about, Albus! My Gryffindors would not trampsy about all night, wearing their shoes thin!" Professor McGonagall was up in arms that the Headmaster thought her Gryffindors would break the rules. Well, aside from a few such as Mr. Potter, Miss Granger and most of the Weasley clan. They were notorious for sneaking about the school when the students should be in bed. But that was not the point! Her Gryffindors had more sense than to deliberately wear out their shoes. "I'm telling you Albus, every night I make sure the Fat Lady keeps an eye on the door. If anyone goes in or out, I know about it!"  
  
"Yes, well be that as it may, Minerva, the house-elves have been mending their broken shoes since the term started. And I am determined to find out why. This is the first time something has happened in this castle that I am completely unaware of, and frankly it frightens me."  
  
Professor McGonagall suddenly became afraid for her Gryffindors. "Do you think it's serious, Albus? Do you really think they are up to something?"  
  
"We should keep an eye on them. Or perhaps both eyes."  
  
As the weeks went by, Professor McGonagall did begin to notice that something was amiss. Where once her Gryffindors had been warmhearted and friendly, they grew cold and secretive. An air of mystery filled the castle. Many students from the other houses believed the Gryffindors had been bewitched. Many eyes turned towards a certain blonde-haired Slytherin, but upon further investigation by the Hogwarts professors, it was found that Draco Malfoy had nothing to do with it. Everyone wondered who might break the spell, but without knowing what exactly was happening (as the Gryffindors were very secretive) there was no way of developing a counter-spell.  
  
A few days later, a certain shoeless Gryffindor began to feel an inch of uneasiness as her teachers kept a close watch. One evening, as they Grffindors sat in their common room, she voiced her concern.  
  
"Do you think they suspect we are up to something?" The bushy-haired girl said nervously to her friends.  
  
The redheaded boy beside her, Ron Weasely, let out a heavy sigh and said, "Hermione! Calm down. None of the Professors could ever guess what we are up to."  
  
"And besides," came a voice from behind her in a thick Irish accent, "with everything that's going on lately with You-Know-Who, everyone's too busy to bother about a bunch of Gryffindors whose shoes 'mysteriously' get worn out throughout the night."  
  
"But what if one of the Professors find out? We'll be expelled for sure!"  
  
Harry Potter stood from the couch in front of the fire-place. "Don't you want to go anymore? Can't you feel the magic drawing you to go?"  
  
"Of course I do! I want to go more than anything in my life! But you have to admit that they suspect something. After all, they did take our shoes away from us."  
  
Ron spun around to face Hermione. "Are you a witch or aren't you? I distinctly remember asking you that one other time. As I was saying, just transfigure a pair of shoes. And while you're at it, transfigure me a pair too!" Hermione let out a huff of anger. "Ron Weasley! You are never going to be able to learn if you don't start practicing yourself!"  
  
Ron and Harry smiled. "That's more like our Hermione."  
  
Professor Dumbledore sought out the cleverest spies to keep watch of them, but every morning he would only discover that they had mysteriously disappeared. Dumbledore was running out of ideas. He had one last person to turn to for help. 


End file.
